


Sheep's Clothing

by Snailsway



Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27580034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snailsway/pseuds/Snailsway
Summary: Music shop AU.Eddy is Brett's very shy, very agreeable co-worker at the music shop. Or is he?
Relationships: Eddy Chen & Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 15
Kudos: 130





	Sheep's Clothing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TDmomo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TDmomo/gifts).



Brett begins his stint at the music shop with a guy named Eddy Chen. As the shop manager goes over ground rules, he looks Eddy up and down from the corner of his eye and decides, _nah, not much competition there_.

Eddy’s a bundle of nerves. He stands straight as a rod and clasps his hands behind his back, his fingers tangled tightly in an impossible knot. He’s taller and bigger than Brett, but for the most part, he huddles behind the counter with helpless doe eyes and looks ridiculously tiny.

“The customers aren’t monsters. They aren’t going to eat you,” Brett teases mercilessly when the manager turns her back. Eddy’s lower lip juts out just slightly to form a small pout of discontent.

The good thing about Eddy, though, is that he doesn’t complain when Brett makes him do all the things that Brett doesn’t want to. Just that first day, for example, he tricks Eddy into suggesting, “I’ll do cash register if you help the customers.” Brett says _fine_ with pronounced reluctance, but he’s secretly ecstatic on the inside. Could he have made a better deal for himself?

So Brett’s pretty sure that they’ll have a good working relationship.

*

As the days pass, Brett proves his theory by finding a myriad of other ways to take advantage of Eddy.

“Oh, you’d like a new bow? Here, Eddy will help you.”

Eddy glares at him weakly, but the customer’s already looking at him, so he has no choice but to acquiesce. Brett twirls around leisurely on a chair behind the counter as he watches Eddy tire himself out with the rosin.

“I think it’s good now. Why don’t you give it a try,” he hears Eddy say.

“Um, actually, I think it needs a bit more rosin?” says the customer.

Brett ducks his head behind the computer, his shoulders quaking with laughter.

“Oh, you need a new case? We have those in the back. Eddy, can you go grab one?”

“But—”

“You’re taller, I can’t reach, _please_?”

Brett blinks innocently and waits for Eddy’s resolve to crumble. It crumbles quickly; the taller boy trudges off to storage with a long-suffering expression of gloom. Brett smirks. Too easy.

“Oh, you need a new string? Here, Eddy’ll string it for you.”

“Wait, why me—”

“Eddy has perfect pitch, so he’ll make sure it sounds right.”

“Perfect pitch has nothing to do with—”

“Go, Eddy, go!”

That’s what you get for bragging about your perfect pitch, Brett thinks to himself vindictively. From a few feet away, he spies on Eddy’s feeble attempt at conversation.

“Um, so, your daughter must practice a lot, huh? Did she break it with pizzicato?”

“. . . Uh . . . no idea . . . ”

Brett tries to suppress his laugh, so it comes out more or less a snort. The manager shoots him a dirty look. “Brett Yang, that’s rude. Also, stop bullying poor Eddy.”

Brett shrugs and quiets down, but there’s no one else in the store, so he continues observing Eddy as Eddy changes the string with fluid proficiency. Maybe he stares for a minute too long, or maybe the stifling Singapore heat does something to his brain. It’s all rudimentary work, but somehow, Brett is just little bit mesmerized by Eddy’s focused expression and the way he grips the violin with his large hands and twists the pegs in place with ease.

*

“I did it wrong,” Eddy says afterwards with a deflated look.

“Did what wrong?”

“I wound it the wrong way. I don’t know, I was really nervous. Here, let me show you.”

Before Brett could figure out what he’s talking about, Eddy had already grabbed his hand and was winding an earphone cord around his index finger.

“It’s supposed to be like this, right,” Eddy demonstrates while gently gripping the tip of his finger, “But I did it like this instead. Do you know what I mean?”

The Chinese have a saying that the nerves of the fingers are linked to the heart. Brett’s pretty sure they don’t mean it literally, but that’s what it feels like—like Eddy’s hard, calloused fingertips are grazing lightly against his heart, causing it to skip a beat here and there.

“Hahahaha! Yeah. Hahahaha! Yeah, I know what you mean.”

He can hear that his voice had gone up an octave and this makes him blush. Eddy is eyeing him curiously so he quickly looks away. Is it just his imagination, or is there a cunning glint to Eddy’s eye? No, of course not. Eddy’s just a shy little lamb.

*

Brett’s favorite part of the job is finding new violins for customers. Like finding a wand for the wizard, there’s something magical in taking a violin off its hook and pairing it with its destined owner.

But Eddy doesn’t seem to think so. Eddy always watches him anxiously every time he steps on the ladder to grab the instrument.

“Be careful,” he would say, his hands outstretched and ready to catch Brett in case he falls. Please, as if Brett weren’t old enough to climb ladders.

But today, Brett wobbles a little and it scares Eddy enough for Eddy to reach out and place a steadying hand on his waist.

“I’m fine,” Brett protests, embarrassed.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” Eddy says dubiously. “Don’t want you breaking any instruments.”

He keeps his hand there until Brett’s safely on the ground again. In fact, the hand lingers for a few seconds after that—long enough for Brett to wonder if it’s intentional, but not long enough for Brett to make a comment. Brett’s waist tingles a little from Eddy’s touch. It’s very distracting.

What’s also distracting is the way Eddy watches him as he tunes the violin for the little boy. As always, Eddy stands with his hands clasped behind his back, but this time, it’s Brett that feels nervous.

“Can you play something for me,” asks the boy.

Brett nods and plays his favorite passage from Tchaikovsky. In fact, he plays a little more than he means to, because the boy’s chosen violin sounds sweet and romantic under his ear and is perfect for Tchaik.

When he finishes, he notices that Eddy is still staring at him. There’s something new and intense in that stare though that makes Brett blush again.

As revenge, Brett abandons Eddy when the manager brings over a bunch of new bows for the boy. Let Eddy rosin them all, he thinks rather crossly.

*

On a slow Friday night, the two of them are tasked with organizing the storage room. To ensure that the process is efficient, and not because he’s lazy, Brett reluctantly assumes the leadership position and gives Eddy directions on where to move things.

Eddy rolls his eyes but doesn’t complain, probably because he doesn’t trust Brett to haul things around anyway. Brett watches idly from the side, without focusing on anything in particular. He doesn’t, for example, notice that Eddy’s rolled up his shirtsleeves, nor does he notice the newly revealed taut muscles of Eddy’s forearms that had been hidden just underneath. And he certainly doesn’t notice the bead of sweat that drips from the side of Eddy’s face onto his collarbone and down his chest . . .

“What are you staring at?” Eddy asks, suddenly standing before him.

_“Nothing,”_ Brett stammers.

“Oh really?”

Brett doesn’t like the smile on Eddy’s face. He frowns and says, “Well, if you must know, it’s your shirt. You don’t button it up all the way. It’s _unprofessional_.”

“Ah, is it?”

“Yeah, it is. You should always button the top two buttons.” To make his point and without thinking it through, his hands reach up and try to button Eddy’s shirt in a fumbling sort of way.

Eddy laughs softly and captures his wrist with one hand before he can do too much damage.

“Do you know what I’ve been thinking, Brett?”

“How would I know?" Brett retorts. 

“I’ve been thinking, that you look too uptight and proper for this store's vibe. Maybe you could do with _un_ buttoning a few of your buttons.” Eddy says this in a low, dangerous voice, and as he speaks, his free hand has already begun to undo Brett's top buttons. 

Brett swallows nervously, but there's nothing he can really do; Eddy's still holding onto his wrists. He tries to take a step back, but his effort is half-hearted and Eddy doesn’t let him get very far. In the blink of an eye, Eddy has his arms around Brett’s waist and pulls him close. Their lips are centimeters apart. The tension is almost unbearable.

“I’ve also been thinking,” Eddy whispers, “that I deserve a reward for doing all of your work.”

Brett rolls his eyes. But he’s a little short of breath and there’s a tiny smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Fine,” he says. “You get one kiss.”

*

Eddy steals more than one kiss. In fact, they end up doing a little more than mere kissing. Brett is kind of embarrassed about it and hopes that no one heard him. (He may have moaned louder than was strictly appropriate for the storage room. He blames Eddy.)

Afterwards, when Brett’s collapsed breathlessly against Eddy’s chest, he wonders why he ever thought Eddy was a shy little lamb.

What a fucking liar.

**Author's Note:**

> Their new video is basically a fanfic, right? How are there not like 10,000 fics already? 
> 
> Thanks @tdmomo for fangirling with me all morning. Teeheee


End file.
